


The Girl

by Lexyqu



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: Gen, KOTW, Mevolent's perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 07:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9982403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexyqu/pseuds/Lexyqu
Summary: The Baron had reported a disturbance involving Sense-Wardens, several Redhoods, and a girl dressed in black.





	

The Baron had reported a disturbance involving Sense-Wardens and several Redhoods in a mortal town just outside the palace walls.

 

That in and of itself shouldn’t have warranted a separate report, disturbances were rare but not unheard of. No, something else must have happened that made this case stand out from the others. Something that made the Baron want to report it to his master in person, and without delay.

 

Eyewitness reports from the mortals told of a girl, seemingly barely out of childhood, dressed in black. Dark haired with dark eyes and, according to those who’d heard her speak, in possession of a native tongue.

 

A sorcerer too, most likely an elemental by the way she’d scaled a building to escape. A member of the resistance? A new recruit or perhaps simply an unskilled one, having been spotted so easily.

 

But no, there was more. The Sense-Wardens had been injured. They had been found lying on the ground while Redhoods scoured the streets for the girl. Upon their return to the palace they’d been taken to Nye. It had taken one look before it had ordered for them to be taken to the other Sensitives.

 

Physically there was nothing wrong with them. Mentally, nothing was right.

 

xXx

 

They’d entered the room to find one of the afflicted huddled in a corner, clutching his head and muttering feverishly. He didn’t rise as was proper and Mevolent didn’t need to look at Baron Vengeous to see his anger at the insult. But Mevolent cared more about what the Sense-Warden had to say and made a dismissive gesture towards the Baron.

 

The Baron nodded and motioned for two of the guards to take the Sensitive back to where the others were being rehabilitated.

 

Mevolent turned to Nye. The creature was in the process of putting several tools back in their proper place, his second, more detailed, examination being complete.

 

“Well?” Mevolent spoke in barely more than a murmur, but then why should he raise his voice?

 

Nye turned its face to him, beady yellow eyes focussing on a space just to the left of Mevolent’s head. “Their minds were attacked, torn and prodded and ripped. Whatever did this wanted them to suffer, it didn’t care about getting information.”

 

“‘It’, Nye? You mean to say it wasn’t the girl?”

 

The Crengarrion shifted its long limbs, movements agitated, “I have my doubts that any sorcerer, and a child at that, would have the mental strength required to do this much damage to all three of them at once, and without physical contact. They suspect the girl of being an elemental, no? For her to have done this she would either have to be magically ambidextrous, something exceedingly rare, or she hasn’t had her surge yet, at which point one must wonder how she would be capable of this. No, something else must be involved. Or perhaps there was someone with her, a Sensitive of considerable skill and strength, that evaded detection and covered her escape. Either way, the Resistance could be in possession of one or more dangerous individuals unknown to us.”

 

Mevolent didn’t respond, instead he turned to the door and left. The Baron fell into step to his right and a few paces behind. They needed to learn more of this girl.

 

xXx

 

It had been days and the Sense-Wardens were afraid. The ones that had encountered the girl still hadn’t recovered. There were those that believed they never would, that the girl or whoever was responsible had broken something essential inside their minds. Others had tried to connect with them, to uncover more information about this unknown sorcerer but every attempt had been met by incoherent screeches of monsters dressed like little girls and of a darkness that slipped into one’s very soul.

 

One of the afflicted had, during a moment of near lucidity, whispered of voice, a terrible,  _terrible_  voice that had told them to  _get out of her mind_.

 

“Something inside her,” she’d said before she’d gone back to rocking herself as blood dripped from her nose. “Something strong.”

 

xXx

 

‘She was young’, Mevolent thought as he regarded the girl the Baron had brought before him. The beginnings of a hand-shaped bruise on her neck telling him that the girl hadn’t come quietly.

 

She didn’t look like she’d make any trouble now. Her fear was almost palpable though she was doing an admirable job of hiding it.  

 

The door opened and Lord Vile’s footsteps could be heard as Mevolent sensed him approaching. The oddest thing happened. For just a moment the girl’s expression cleared, growing almost hopeful, and some of the tension left her shoulders. Strange.

 

Vile took his place next to the throne and barely glanced at the girl. Mevolent watched her from beneath his veil. He saw the moment that hope gave way to pure terror before she hid it again, but she didn’t take her eyes off the armoured figure beside him.

 

She’d been afraid of Mevolent himself, of that he was sure, but her reaction to Vile had been more severe. For barely a second he’d seen recognition light up in her eyes as she listened to his approach. Had she encountered him before? If so, how had she survived?

 

With the Sense-Wardens unwilling to enter her mind he’d have to wait for her interrogation to yield answers. No matter, sooner or later everyone talked. This girl would most likely fall in the ‘sooner’ category.

 

xXx

 

She’d escaped. The resistance had come to retrieve their people and they’d taken her with them. When Vile returned from his mission the girl hadn’t been among those captured or killed. But he did not return empty handed.

 

The thing he brought with him looked like her but it clearly wasn’t human. Still, it seemed far more alive than any reflection should be. But with those improvements came drawbacks. They might not be able to gain any information from it, but it felt pain, and as such, its agony provided some measure of entertainment.

 

Mevolent gave it to Nye to study, with the order not to kill it too soon.

 

xXx

 

Something had changed. The girl who stood before him now bared little resemblance to the one he’d had in his dungeon not too long ago. Oh, she still looked the same, dark hair and dark eyes unchanged, dressed in different garbs than the rags of last time, but there were more marked differences.  _This one knows no fear_. Her eyes were clear and focussed, regarding him with curiosity and faint amusement.

 

“You’re different,” he said. The girl didn’t answer. Then the pain hit and Mevolent was forced to take a step back. He felt his bones strain as the pressure kept increasing and creaking sounds filled the air as they started breaking. He fell, trying to figure out what had happened, what the girl had done. His armour reacted to the damage, healing sigils activating and repairing the damage quickly. He got back up.

 

The girl smiled, unconcerned with his recovery, and asked him how he had done that. He didn’t answer, mimicking her earlier response. Instead he manipulated the air in her body, forcing it to expand and damage her throat, lungs, aiming to end this fight quickly and repay her for her insolence.

 

But she didn’t die like she was supposed to. The air wouldn’t obey his command and he watched her neck repair itself. Who was she?

 

“Sneaky,” she said, a smirk playing at her lips. The teleporter returned, having brought a God-Killer with him, and handed it to Mevolent. The familiar shape of the hilt would have felt reassuring if he had been worried. Instead he merely assumed an opening stance and watched his soon-to-be-dead opponent. No tricks would protect her against the might of this weapon.

 

The girl looked vaguely disappointed and proved her ignorance by saying, “That’s your plan? You’re going to try and stab me? How disappointingly uninspired.” She approached while speaking, believing herself to have the upper hand.

 

He waited for her to get close enough and struck, going for her neck. Her eyes widened at the last moment, something like recognition dawning in them, and she barely managed to avoid the blade.

 

He pressed his advantage, striking again and again while the girl stumbled to avoid his weapon. Not giving her a moment to think he forced her into corners, while he followed. She tried fleeing into the air but still he pursued until she managed to push him away. She watched him recover from the other side of the room, her face impassive but eyes cautious.

 

Finally she said, “That’s some sword. Just a little something you happen to have in your collection?” Her voice didn’t contain worry merely curiosity.

 

“It is known as the God-Killer,” he told her. “What it cuts, it kills. You can feel the truth in my words, can’t you?” “Which is why I’m all the way over here,” she replied. Then she said, “We don’t need to fight. I came here for the Sceptre, but you can keep it. Let me have the God-killer.”

 

Heathen wench. “These weapons were forged to make war against the Faceless Ones. I can’t allow someone like you to posses one of them.” Disregarding the fact that she was an unbeliever, there was something about her, something that made her stand out from all other sorcerers he’d known. The thought had struck him even when she was kneeling before his throne.

 

“I promise I won’t lose it.”

 

He was spared from having to respond to her quip by a screech as another one of the Resistance’s vermin attacked him with a gist. Its holder was soon dealt with but the attack had knocked the sword out of his hands.

 

The God-Killer lay on the floor and Mevolent saw the girl smile. He dived for it but the girl was quicker, delivering a kick with enough force to send him through a wall. China Sorrows stood on the other side, backing away from him, the Sceptre of the Ancients in her hands. He took it from her, turning just as the girl stepped through the hole in the wall, the sword nowhere to be seen.

 

He fired but missed. He kept firing and the girl kept dodging and then they were flying through the open air. She was fast but out here, without any obstacles, he had the advantage. Still, she twisted and turned, avoiding the black lightning, keeping herself out of his line of fire.

 

She flipped suddenly and he shot by her. He’d meant to turn but she’d latched onto him, knocking the Sceptre out of his hand and they crashed to the ground.

 

He recovered more quickly and grabbing the nearest object, a stone block from the rubble around them, slammed it into her head before she could get up. He couldn’t afford to give her a chance to act, she’d proven herself too persistent.

 

He picked her up, she was so light, and flung her against the nearest building. There was a cart nearby so Mevolent grabbed it and brought it crashing down on her but she managed to deflect most of the damage with her fist.

 

Unperturbed, he brought his armoured boot down on her knee, grabbed her head, and started pulling. No matter how persistent, she wouldn’t be able to do much without a head.

 

She tried to get away but he didn’t ease up on his hold even as she slammed them both into another building. She tried biting him but couldn’t get through his sleeve. He started twisting her head and she kicked out futily as her neck was torn. And then it came loose and he held her head at eye-level.

 

He took her face in, the muted confusion her expression held, the way her eyes were still moving slightly. And then he dropped it. It was over. He turned and walked away, leaving her body in pieces, lying there in the filth.

 

He’d been fully prepared to fly back towards the battle and locate both the Sceptre and the God-Killer blade when he heard the mortals still scurrying around cry out. He almost didn’t bother looking at them but for some reason he did.

 

They weren’t looking at him. That was the first sign that something was wrong. They were staring at something behind him, pointing at it, and then he heard it. The sound of something sliding across the ground. He turned and almost didn’t believe his own eyes. The girl’s body and head were reattaching themselves, flesh regrowing and skin healing over as her neck repaired itself.  _What was she?_

 

He was walking back. He needed to kill her. He needed to not leave a trace of her blasphemous existence and he needed to do it now. This girl, this  _child_ , was a threat.

 

The girl – was she even human? – propped herself up on her elbows and said, “Wow. That was something.”

 

He lunged at her but she caught him in the stomach with her feet and sent him flying over her. He got up, as did she, but she seemed to sway and Mevolent took the opportunity to slam his fist into the side of her face, sending her crashing into a nearby wooden post.

 

He went to hit her again but suddenly she was tearing the post out of the ground and slamming it into him with enough force to drive him to his knees. By the time he got up she was already throwing another one and he stumbled back at the impact. Every time he tried to move, every time he tried to get up, she’d be throwing another one his way, picking new ones up as she went.

 

He got to one knee and shook his head in an effort to clear his vision. He looked up, tried to find her. He didn’t see the horse until it was too late.

 

When he regained his focus the girl was gone, not a trace of her anywhere. He returned to the battle, looking for her but she’d vanished, as had the Sceptre of the Ancients. Lord Vile had brought him the God-Killer, head tilted as if asking him why his weapon had been lying in the dirt where anyone could have taken it. Soldiers had found the body of the resistance leader but the others, those not dead or already captured, had disappeared. Baron Vengeous had fallen but Nye would see to that matter. For now he ordered that the captives be thrown in the dungeon and questioned.

 

xXx

 

Mevolent sat in his throne. The fight with the resistance wasn’t over. He suspected that Nefarian had taken over from China and had most likely been the one to kill her as well. No matter, he would deal with his former second in command when the time came. There were other matters to attend to.

 

The girl.

 

Thinking of her made him seethe with a rage he hadn’t felt since the days of the war. This upstart, heathen wretch had taken the Sceptre, of that he was sure. She posed a threat, not only to him but to  _his_   _Gods_. She  _needed_  to die!

 

He’d already ordered Nye to oversee the construction of a weapon that could be used to defeat her. Without her magic she was nothing more than helpless child. The Sceptre would not heed her call until Mevolent himself died and he could not afford to have a weapon of such power to be used by a  _heathen_.

 

And when the Faceless Ones did, one day, make their glorious return Mevolent would make sure that  _Valkyrie Cain_  would not be alive to witness it.

 

Next time, he’d be ready for her.

 

_And she would die…_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! This story was also posted on Fanfiction dot net but I made some slight changes before I uploaded it here. Mostly spelling stuff.
> 
> This is actually the first fic I wrote/completed but I didn't get a chance to post it sooner. I really like stories written from outside perspectives and I imagine the inhabitants of the parallel world were kind of stumped when random people started showing up and ruined things.
> 
> Please review as I could really use the feedback. Thanks!


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